Hermione hated Remus at first with a soul-deep pain that she could only voice in the profundity of her new affliction. The whole town had nightmares of the Wild Hunt from her howls.
Afterward, she was as rational as ever.
He provided her with the reams of text she needed to comprehend her new condition. He got the recipe for her. It only took three tries for her to brew it.
They moved in together, unregistered, in hiding. Before the year was out, they woke from the moonlight together, spines curled in postures grown uncomfortable, nose to insensitive human nose.
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